


Be Mine, This Quarantine

by LiberAmans214



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Castiel & Sam Winchester Friendship, Castiel Has a Crush on Dean Winchester, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Castiel and Dean Winchester Need to Use Their Words, Castiel and Dean Winchester are Roommates, Communication is The New Porn, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eventual Castiel/Dean Winchester, Little Shit Balthazar (Supernatural), M/M, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester is So Done, Self Isolation, Sharing a Bed, Slow Build Castiel/Dean Winchester, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, covid-19 induced FLUFF
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:40:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23324863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiberAmans214/pseuds/LiberAmans214
Summary: "What will I even say?" Dean retorts, indignant. "Like, do I just go up to the guy like 'hey, wanna have me impose on you for a bunch of weeks?'" Sam snickers like Dean's trying to be funny. "'I promise to clean and make you food if you let me live with you during a pandemic'?""Something like that." Sam laughs, and Dean has to smile - because that doesn't happen very often and when it does, it reminds him of a past where they were much closer than California and Kansas. "Tell me how it goes, okay?""Nothing'sgoing -""You promised.""I didn't fucking promise a thing -"The line clicks, and Sam is gone. Dean lands back on his bed, and wonders briefly if it'd be easier to die.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Comments: 8
Kudos: 70





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This One's for Representation Week. AS IN, I'M REPRESENTING QUARANTINE. mwuahahaha. there's fluff ahead, mutual pining and not a lot of wait before they end up together cause i'm impatient like that <3

"Dude." Dean nervously chuckles, scrubbing his face with his hand. The other one holds the phone to his ear. "I haven't even been able to ask this guy out to dinner. And you're asking me to ask him to go into isolation with me?"

"You're being dramatic again." Sam tells him, matter-of-factly, as if Dean's the one being unreasonable here.

 _Sam_ is the one who specifically called him on a Sunday from California to remind him to self-isolate, but " _do it with someone like Castiel, okay?_ " - like he's supposed to be taking care of his older brother from fucking Stanford, like Dean knows anyone else like Cas, and like he's ever going to be able to propose something of that sort to _Cas_.

"He has a third-floor apartment." Sam points out, revisiting all of his super valid points. "You share a dorm with three other guys. And he just seems like the kind who'd be the correct amount of a germophobe." Dean rolls his eyes - although he also agrees. "Dean, you share so many classes with him that if nothing else, you could revise your entire semester together - and to top it all off, you're like best friends."

Benny comes to Dean's head and he starts to protest.

"You _text_ him, Dean." The eyeroll and bitchface are audible in Sam's voice. "You, who exits all text chains you've ever been added to because quote unquote you're not an adolescent teenager with a celebrity crush, or looking to be catfished - _you_ , Dean Winchester, text Cas."

That - wasn't far from the truth.

He wouldn't call them texting buddies or anything, but Castiel always sends a good morning text, and Dean always sends him a picture of his breakfast (because that's what he's up to by the time Castiel wakes up) and sometimes Dean's late for class because he lost track of time while talking to Cas, and sometimes they stay up all night together discussing the most inconsequential things like why mattresses matter to Dean and bees matter to Cas, and - _yeah_. He should probably call them texting buddies.

"Whatever, bitch." Dean throws back, taking the small losses his way as long as he wins the final battle. "Fine, we're friends. That doesn't automatically mean we'll be able to live together."

"You cannot actually mean that." Sam scoffs. "You're the best kind of neat freak I know, because you just end up doing all the tidying up by yourself. _And_ you can cook." Dean huffs. "Admit it, jerk. Compatibility in a shared living space shouldn't be your concern."

Sure, Sam makes some good points, but Dean has the biggest card up his sleeve - which will trump all of Sam's meticulously presented arguments.

 _He's sorta in love with Cas_.

But to say out loud to his little brother, it comes out as, "What if Cas doesn't want me there?"

Sam pauses.

Point, Dean Winchester.

"That's exactly why you need to talk to him." He finally says, but he sounds more thoughtful like it finally entered his twenty two year old brain that Cas might not want to shack up with Dean.

"Like hell, I will."

"I swear on your bullshit, Dean," Sam threatens. "I won't hesitate to take a cheap-ass flight, straight to Cas's apartment."

Dean balks. "You're not getting on any planes right now, Sammy -"

"And you're asking him." Sam declares, and if he were in front of Dean, he'd be crossing his arms on his chest which usually implies the end of a debate in Sam-the-to-be-lawyer speak. "Promise me."

"What will I even say?" Dean retorts, indignant. "Like, do I just go up to the guy like 'hey, wanna have me impose on you for a bunch of weeks?'" Sam snickers like Dean's trying to be funny. "'I promise to clean and make you food if you let me live with you during a pandemic'?"

"Something like that." Sam laughs, and Dean has to smile - because that doesn't happen very often and when it does, it reminds him of a past where they were much closer than California and Kansas. "Tell me how it goes, okay?"

"Nothing's _going_ -"

"You promised."

"I didn't fucking promise a thing -"

The line clicks, and Sam is gone. Dean lands back on his bed, and wonders briefly if it'd be easier to die.

*

He calls Cas - because they're not goddamn texting buddies, no matter what Sam says - and asks if he's free for lunch.

Cas says yes and actually sounds excited about it.

*

When Dean reaches their usual diner, he takes longer than usual to park the Impala - all the while thinking about how he's going to frame the question to Cas, because he's fought it out with himself and knows that he's going to do it. He'd also taken longer than usual to drive there from the University apparently, because when he reaches, Cas is already there.

He's sitting on a table for two - probably just because that allows him to have a seat against the wall and Cas is kind of adorable about small things like that - and he's slumping over his phone.

But he puts it down when Dean approaches, and as Dean takes off his jacket, Cas puts his phone back in his jeans and uses his fingers to fidget instead. When Dean sits, a little amused, Cas is the one who speaks up first and in a hurry.

"Would you like to quarantine with me?"

Dean blinks. He takes a moment to think and then asks, "Did Sam get to you?"

"Uh, your brother Sam?" Cas frowns, shaking his head. "No, why would he?"

"Nevermind." Dean believes him. Though he cannot believe what just happened.

"So?"

"Oh." He's supposed to give an answer, because Cas doesn't know how much Dean's been thinking about it. Though, in his defense, most of the time, Cas tends to be so goddamn intuitive that Dean feels like he can read his mind.

Nonetheless, Dean tries to answer as casually as he can. "Yes. I mean, of course. Thank you for asking."

That's Dean Winchester in a sentence.

He tries to shoot for the normal, and ends up in affirmative-response-to-a-promposal territory.

"Are you sure?" Cas asks, sounding slightly less sure than before.

_Did you not hear me say 'of course, thank you for asking' after that yes?_

"Yeah, buddy." He pulls the menu from Cas's side of the table to his, sliding it on the table. "So what are we eating?"

"I'm not forcing you into this, am I?" Cas interrupts, hand on Dean's wrist jolting his attention back and ruining his complete 'casual' cover, because now Dean's sweating too. "Just because I asked, and just because we're friends - you don't have to say yes to anything, okay?"

"I know that." Dean gives Cas his best reassuring smile, though it's a little non-assured from his own core.

"I wake up late and I'm not sure when I sleep." Cas confesses, eyes worried. "The flat is clean only because I stuff _everything_ in the closets. And I have a neighbor - you remember Balthazar, right? He just returned from France."

"How long ago is 'just'?" Dean repeats, and then adds. "And frankly I'd assumed he was simply being pretentious when we met."

"Two months." Castiel bites his lip. "And he is. The accent is fake."

"We'll survive." Dean announces, grinning broader. "Plus I can't wait to hear that guy minus the accent now."

Castiel makes an exasperated sound.

"Cas, how do I put this?" Dean sighs, knowing that things would eventually come to this. "I would be grateful if you'd let me stay with you, and -"

"Sometimes I wander around the house with my cat past midnight." Cas volunteers, out of the blue.

_Naked?_

Dean's brain jumps there and then he drags it back from the gutter - or, you know, the land of tempting imaginable scenarios.

"I want to live with you, you dumbass."

Cas pauses like that's at all surprising. "You do?"

"I was literally trying to figure out how to ask." Dean rubs the back of his neck, feeling his face heat up. "And then you did, okay? And then I said yes, and I wanted us to not talk about it all lunch because later we're going to have important shit to figure out like food and beer and toilet paper and -"

"When exactly you'll move in." Cas offers, and when he puts it like that, a little bit of Dean melts.

"Uh-huh."

"Okay." Cas smiles, and finally it's that smile - eyes all crinkled, nose all scrunched up, the very definition of gummy - and _fuck_ , Dean's very much in love with him and has just dug himself a huge, apartment-shaped hole, but he'd fucking _like_ to live with him too, and he's a fucking liar if he isn't being a little hopeful about it too.

"We'll not talk about it." Cas declares. "And before, you'd asked me what we were eating?"

Dean nods.

"Well, I asked the waitress for recommendations for something memorable and she offered me the specials menu." Cas says, innocent as though everyone in the city doesn't know _not_ to ask for the specials' menu at Reed's diner.

Dean starts to pray.

"So, kale pecan pesto." Cas announces. "And yes, I had to Google what that is later and no, I'm not showing you."

"God-fucking-dammit, Cas." Dean glares at him. "These might be our last diner meals for the foreseeable future, I don't want to have rabbit food -"

And then Cas winks at him like that's something he's allowed to do, and Dean's suddenly flustered again - and if that isn't an apt summary of how living with Cas is going to be like, he doesn't know what is.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long! But I hope you enjoy this one <3

Dean pulls out his phone, clicks on the camera icon, and takes a selfie.

He looks adequately grouchy in it - his uninterested eyebrow-raise, an indisputable declaration that clicking a picture of himself irritates and annoys him, as it should every respectable non-preadolescent person. Also, he manages to get Cas's apartment building, a little bit of the night sky, and his very last moving box of stuffs, in the frame.

It's labelled 'Socks' on the top, and should make Dean feel like a dork if he wasn't going to send the picture straight to Sam - the dorkier of the two of them, by far, and also someone who's well-acquainted with Dean's fascination for hilarious novelty socks.

No sooner has the message been sent, it's been seen, and Dean's getting a call from his little brother.

"It's dark." Sam greets, with all the subtle pointedness of a soon-to-be-lawyer. "Why is it dark?"

"Are you just staring at your screen, waiting for me to text you all day?" Dean throws back, and Sam makes a noncommittal sound. "And it's dark cause it's almost nine."

"And you're still not done?" Sam sounds surprised.

"Almost," Dean bites his cheek. He has to admit Sam has a point. Moving in's supposed to be a morning, in-the-sun kind of activity. "In my defense, I started late. Cas made me spend all morning at his place, getting to know Catsanova."

"His cat?"

"It's literally in the name, Sammy."

"Hypoallergenic?"

"Do I sound dead to you?" Dean rolls his eyes. "Yeah, she is. And cute, too. Black, and it's got whiskers. Responds to 'Cas'."

"Figures." Sam grins, audibly. Kid's always been an animal person - he's probably going to be asking for pictures all the time now. "It sounds pretty similar. So what, you say Cas, and both the cat and human come up to you?"

"Neither of them come up to me, cause neither of them's fond of moving. Big Cas ignores me until I make it like I'm dying, and Small Cas still doesn't really care." Dean laughs. "But I'm going to try and work up to it."

"Good luck." Sam says to that, before clearing his throat. "You should finish moving your socks in, Dean." There's a pause. "Thank you for listening to me about the quarantine thing, I guess. And staying safe."

Dean's first instinct is to immediately dismiss the sentiment, but then he decides not to. And settles for, "You too, Sammy. And thank you for the move-in-with-Cas advice."

Sam lets out a soft, "Yeah."

"But if you tell me what to do again," Dean adds, right after. "And try to threaten me with cheap flight tickets to Kansas? I'm not fucking giving in."

"And you're welcome for the caring about you." Sam retorts, and Dean rolls his eyes a second time.

"That's my job."

"Yeah, right."

"Just shut your face. Smartass." Dean can't contain his smile, in spite of himself. "Stay inside, okay? I've got Gabriel's eyes on you." That's Cas's stepbrother, also in Stanford, and Dean's not really used him yet - but he really could. Dude's sorta obsessed with Sam.

"I -" Sam huffs. "Jerk."

Dean grins. "Bitch."

The phone clicks, and Sam's gone. Dean picks up the last box - it's pretty light, so he props it on his hip and uses a free hand to slam Baby's door shut, and walks into the building he's going to spend (at least) the next three weeks in.

*

"Pizza's on it's way." Cas says from the couch, first thing as Dean enters and shuts the door behind him, setting the box on the floor.

He can't get a normal greeting fucking ever in these parts - but he doesn't really pay attention to it, because every braincell which isn't involved in keeping him alive and standing, fixates all at once, on the scene which beholds him.

He's obviously seen Cas plenty of times before - probably more keenly than he should've been seeing him, to be fair - but this is different. It's like seeing Cas in his natural habitat.

He's in the middle of the couch - _typical_ roommate-lacking behavior - with bare feet propped up on two of Dean's boxes, like there wasn't any furniture around before Dean moved in. And in his collarless bee-patterned shirt and pyjamas which match the brown throw pillows, it's basically like he's dissolved into the couch under the weight of Catsanova who's settled on his tummy, with his hands around her, petting. His hair's enough of a mess that he could've had a reverse-Jonathan-Van-Ness moment by himself when Dean went downstairs for the last time, and his eyes are glued to the TV screen even when he speaks to Dean, and then proceeds to keep up a soft, toddler-voice conversation with his cat.

_Holy shit._

_Dean loves him._

This is going to be so hard.

"I changed out of my jeans," Cas adds, not even slightly in Dean's direction, per se. "I know you wanted to go out earlier, but it's Catsanova's dinner time now, and I was wondering if the three of us could just eat together. And watch The Middle." The last part, he directs to Dean, eyes wide and curious.

"Uh." Dean says, eloquently. "Sure."

The Middle's exactly the kind of thing Dean should've expected Cas would watch. It's sappy and sweet, and revolves around a hilariously dysfunctional family, and it's half ways to a sitcom and Dean can clearly imagine them bingeing through all of it - piled on the couch with the cat on Cas's lap, and he's still in the middle cause Dean really doesn't mind squeezing on his left as long as their shoulders brush and knees touch, and they're having pizza and Cas is in ratty graphic tees, and -

_Alternatively_ , this is going to be a little bit perfect.

"I'll go change as well." Dean rubs the back of his neck, scanning the room for his bag which contained a set of clothes in case he got too lazy to unpack. As had happened.

"Are you going to be needing any of these?" Cas draws his attention to the two boxes he's got his feet on, by wiggling his toes.

"Nah." Dean checks the labels. "There won't be any pyjamas in DVDs or Boo -" He stops. That's supposed to be _Books_. "Boo?" Dean repeats, frowning.

"Catsanova likes scratching letters off of words which make them more adorable. Don't you, Catsanova?" Cas grins, running his hand through her fur as he talks about her. She doesn't really pay attention to it. "Say _Boo_ again for us, Dean."

Dean fails to resist the blush. "Screw you. And do you always say her full name, like, all the time? I get that it's funny - or _punny_ , or whatever," Castiel beams at that bit. "But it's kind of a mouthful."

"An earful, you mean." Cas muses.

Dean shrugs, because he's stuck trying to rein in the overpowering affection he feels for this messy, gorgeous guy, who always addresses his cat by her full name, and lets him move in for quarantine. "Just call her Nova or something. She's smart, she'll get it."

"But her name's Catsanova." Cas clarifies, as if it wasn't clear to Dean before.

"Your name's Castiel, _Cas_."

"I blame you for that."

"Sure you do, Happy Meal."

Cas scowls, not giving Dean more material to work with, and silently going back to watching the TV. "Spoilsport." Dean grins. "Isn't that what he is, Catsanova?"

She, once again, doesn't pay any real attention to them, but Cas's lips quirk up in a smile. They're done discussing nicknames for the cat apparently, so he moves on. "You can freshen up in my bathroom right now. There's no towels in the other one yet."

"Roger that."

Dean picks up his duffel and sets off for Cas's room. He's been to this apartment plenty of times, before. On his way, he passes what's going to be his room - previously, Cas's study slash storage, and takes a detour.

It's the same size as Cas's room, with smaller windows and grey curtains, and looks pretty comfortable, though Dean's more of a spend-all-day-in-the-living-room sorta guy. It's got wardrobes and shelves, for when it's morning and Dean resumes the elaborate routine of unpacking, and a desk at the side, and - _oh, fucking hell_.

Dean flings his duffel on the chair, which is the _only_ place to sit in the entire room, - and marches out. "Cas!"

For once, even Catsanova reacts to him, jumping down from Cas, and Cas looks downright alarmed when Dean storms into the living room. "What happened?"

"Where the hell's your futon?"

"Oh." Cas pauses. Dean waits, impatiently for an answer, which seems to come to Cas fairly quick, bringing in its wake, a horrified expression of remembrance. "I lent it to Kelly."

"Then," Dean fixes Cas with an accusing glare. If he were standing, that would've been a finger jabbed at his chest. "Where the hell am I going to sleep?"

" _Oh_."

"Well?"

Cas blinks. And quietly declares - for the benefit of Catsanova, probably, because the two humans already know, and are staring at each other in despair. "I may not have completely thought this through."

*

"I call right."

"Right-now-right, or on-the-bed-right?" Cas confirms, voice coming in from the bathroom where he's brushing his teeth.

"You're on my right when we're sleeping." Dean declares, stifling a scowl. It's not like he's trying to be rude, but he really hadn't expected any of this. He hasn't _expected_ to finish moving in at nine, and dinner at ten, and then proceed to sleep in Cas's bed for the first night he's here.

("I'm so sorry, this is completely on me -" Cas had kept apologizing, with blue eyes in full-on Bambi stare. "I can't believe I forgot about giving away the futon! I'm such a -"

"Whatever, Cas." Dean had frowned back, rolling his eyes. "S'not that big a deal. I'll take the couch."

"Of course not." Cas had looked horrified. "It's cold out here, and my couch is too small - it's just a three-seater. You're way taller than three horizontal butts, plus twice the armrest." Dean had given him a look for that one, and if he wasn't annoyed, he would've been laughed.

"So?"

"You're obviously sleeping in my bed."

"Well, you're taller than three butts too." Dean had sighed, still annoyed - but it slowly subsiding to some sort of thrill which was definitely associated with getting to sleep in Cas's bed.

"I know." Cas had sighed back, a little grim. "I'll just sleep with you.")

Now, Cas exits the bathroom, and walks straight to the bed, setting the pillows right. It's a King-size, so they're going to have enough space, really, but Dean's a little skeptic about getting under the covers first. So instead of climbing on his side, and settling in like his body really wants to, he lingers around, rummaging through his bag even though he has everything he needs.

His phone's plugged in next to his bed, and he's just in a t-shirt and pajamas now. Sure, he usually sleeps in just his boxers, but he has a fair idea of how ridiculous that'd be when Cas, right next to him, sleeps in a full, adorable ensemble.

And that's the last time he's letting himself think Cas - or his bee-themed outfits are adorable.

"I'm going to go put Catsanova to bed." Cas announces, with a smile. "To _couch_ , to be honest. She sleeps inside the couch and I think she likes to think it's her very own hiding spot."

"So that's why I'm not sleeping there?" Dean throws back, stifling a yawn. Somehow, it's eleven, and that's not exactly late, but on a day you've moved into your best friend's apartment, and made friends with his moody cat, it feels pretty late. "Cause the three-butt analogy wasn't your best move, buddy."

"You guessed it." Cas returns, flatly. "I made us sleep in the same bed so that Catsanova's sleep routine didn't get disrupted. Now, how about you actually sleep, Dean?" There's one of those I-know-more-than-you-think-I-do smiles on his face. "You're clearly tired."

"'M not sleeping without you." Dean can't hold in the yawn this time, and it comes out garbling the last bits of his sentence and causing Cas to stare at him in a horrified kind of fascination.

" _Before_ you." He corrects, his cheeks burning, when he actually hears himself. "That'd just be weird."

"Not at all," Cas shrugs. "But sure. Just come with me to Catsanova's night couch."

"Whose couch is it in the morning?"

Cas doesn't really think about it. "Hers, though she settles for indirect use of it's luxury, via our laps."

Dean nods thoughtfully, and follows Cas to the living room. The cat is already all fed, of course, and doesn't really seem keen on playing with them - probably because, and Cas told him this once, cats tended to have bedtime installed in their cat brains. Dean may or may not think that's adorable.

Catsanova curls up in the middle of the couch, much like her (nick)-namesake, and Dean's breath hitches when with a slight purr, puts her head on her paws. She's not a kitten, Cas had mentioned, but she's still so small, that she fits on just one cushion, and with her tail drawn up close, and squinting eyes, she's the cutest thing Dean's ever seen.

"Isn't this somehow better than even the best youtube cat videos?" Cas whispers, eyes turned adoringly at his cat.

"I don't _watch_ -"

Cas gives him a look.

"Okay, yeah, I do, and it is." Dean gives in, rolling his eyes at being called out. " _Maybe_ not better than the kitten falling asleep in the middle of dinner though."

Cas raises his eyebrows, impressed. "You're not wrong."

"But a close second?" Dean offers.

Cas smiles, softly, straight at Dean. He's sitting cross-legged on the floor, with hands around his ankles, and Dean's on the low settee behind him, staring at both the cat and Cas, lazily smiling too.

It feels perfect. In fact, he's so physically exhausted and mentally blissed out that in the moment, that he's not even freaking out about the fact that after this, he and Cas are going to go sleep in the same bed.

(In his right senses, he would've been. When it got suggested - or pretty much, declared, he couldn't have put up a big argument, because if Cas could be so cool about it, how weird would it have been if he wasn't? Why shouldn't he be, indeed?

Except for the fact that he's in love with Castiel and growing increasingly aware of it as the day lives by, there's absolutely _no_ other reason, he's sure.

So after a few weakly presented excuses, including his insistance that it isn't necessary - _"Dean, of course it is!"_ \- and bringing back the couch solution _\- "Dean, why would you sleep on the couch for my mistake?"_ \- he'd given in.

He just couldn't come around to the point that he really isn't sure he'll be able to survive being next to _Cas_ on a bed for an entire night, and figures that it didn't occur to Cas either.

Because of course it fucking didn't.)

"Okay, then." Cas lets out, standing up from the ground swiftly, though Dean holds a hand out. His voice holds a tinge of _we're done here,_ like a superhero in a mission, and Dean grins, in spite of himself. "Let's go."

Since 'putting Catsanova to bed' apparently only includes sitting in front of the couch and staring at her in adoration while she falls asleep and eventually snuggles so close to the back of the couch that she ends up rolling inside, as Dean has now learned, Dean gets up too.

"How'd you like it?" Cas sounds proud.

"Her sleep routine? She did all of it herself." Dean tells him, as the both of them drag themselves to Cas's room. Even Dean knows the house well enough to not have to think about it. "I don't know what I expected, but that wasn't it."

"Did you imagine cuddles and lullabies?" Cas laughs.

"You built it up, buddy."

Cas shrugs nonchalantly, as they reach the bed, and Dean's too tired at this point to even care who's getting in first. All he notices is when they're both in - Cas half-sitting up, legs stretched out under the comforter, and Dean lying on his side as he speaks to him.

"All you did was watch her sleep." He mutters, not really thinking anymore. Sleep is fast trailing his heels, and well, he's stopped running from it.

"I like watching over her." Cas answers, easily. "And it's a sign of trust that she lets me, to be fair. Cats aren't shy, but -"

"Territorial?"

"I guess."

"Huh." Dean closes his eyes. The pillow under his head is the perfect percentage of soft, and it's warm inside the comforter, as compared to the cold in the room. He pulls it up to his neck, trying to tuck himself in without making it obvious.

There's a pause.

"I didn't want to sleep before because," Dean confesses. "Sometimes you look at me." He likes it, but hopefully that doesn't come out in his voice.

There's a weight shift in the mattress, as Cas lies down too. Straight on his back, hand curved above his head, staring at the ceiling.

"It's weird." Dean mumbles. "Kinda."

Cas says, "Okay." But Dean's already asleep, slightly huffing when he exhales, and so there's nothing said in return, and Cas reaches to turn off the lap and goes to sleep, too.

*

Thing is, falling asleep when you're tired is easy. Staying asleep when you're anxious is not.

Dean blinks awake, with a startled breath, and takes a beat to process his surroundings. Gauging by the darkness in the room, it's a long way till sunrise. He stretches drowsily, an unconscious habit of getting up, and his hand nudges against something.

It feels like muscle, and hair, and turns out to be Cas's forearm, because as soon as his eyes get adjusted to the minimal light - he discovers Cas is _right_ there.

They've both migrated towards the middle in their sleep - more Cas than him, Dean assumes quickly, and are still facing each other. When Dean draws his hand back, folding it under the comforter again, there's a few inches between them everywhere - yet suddenly, he's extremely awake, and aware, and losing it.

Cas is quietly asleep, features completely free of tension - with his face smoothed over in sleep, and lips slightly parted. He's unfairly beautiful, and practically a head-jerk away from Dean's pillow, and it's crazy how much it's all getting to Dean.

Even asleep, he's driving Dean nuts.

He doesn't even know what he wants to do - keep staring at this picture of serenity, force himself back to sleep, or something entirely different, but was he does is turn around.

He turns a hundred eighty degrees, keeping his eyes closed, and finds himself facing Cas's bookshelf.

The easiest way to deal with this burst of emotion is to sleep, he convinces himself, and maybe he'll forget about this in the morning. Maybe he'll fall asleep trying to read the titles of the books in front of him, and forget about waking up to Cas in front of him, dreamy even when dreaming, and forget about being overpowered by just about everything in that moment, as he is right now.

He just needs to go back to sleep.

Dean's repeated this to himself enough times to actually be drifting off to sleep, when he feels an arm randomly fall around his waist.

_Jesus fucking Christ._

Cas, still asleep, has apparently decided to put his hand around Dean as if he were a fluffy stuffed toy or something, and it's landed ridiculously close to his abdomen, and his toes curl, and he squeezes his eyes shut.

And if Dean inadvertently pushes back towards the warmth radiating from Cas, and ends up little-spooning him because he's somehow backed up until he's reached Cas - then that's just a _whole_ other thing he's never going to think about.

He finally goes back to sleep, not having to try and read the book titles at all, because apparently Cas hugging Dean to himself like a goddamn pillow, is all his fucking insomniac brain's ever needed.

(Although, he's never sharing a bed with Cas again, because he's _sure_ he couldn't survive another such night.)

*

Catsanova wakes Cas up at six, meowing stubbornly at the door because she doesn't care about Dean's private, middle-of-the-night freakout as long as Cas gets up to pay her due attention, and Dean wakes alone at nine, and ends up pretending he's asleep until Cas comes with coffee.

He doesn't look at Dean _different_ or at all, while climbing on bed with the tray - and Dean definitely doesn't notice that he doesn't, because he's obviously not paying attention.

And he obviously doesn't care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep safe, and keep indoors, folks!  
> And let me know what you thought of this ~


End file.
